While on the campaign trail in 2011, someone gave me a list of people to meet in the East Bayshore community on the mid-Peninsula. This long list included the name of Edmund Harris, who grew up in Bellhaven and was the son of Onetta Harris, for which the community center is named. I contacted Edmund one day and asked if he would be willing to meet with me. There was no formal introduction from a community leader or colleague; it was simply a cold call from someone Edmund did not know. Although I called him out of the blue, Edmund was more than willing to meet with me. We scheduled our first meeting at his office, Baba Educational Consulting Services.
I would describe this first conversation as a “teachable moment” for me and a conversation that stands out clearly in my mind. It was filled with stories of Edmund’s childhood and community leaders gathering in his living room. He described what it was like to grow up during the civil rights movement. He also discussed his experience in the Ravenswood City School District, his time at Menlo-Atherton High School and his struggle to find himself as a young adult. Embedded in all of his stories were the harsh realities of growing up as a gifted African-American student with a passion for learning. While he thrived at Ravenswood, he was placed in lower-track classes at Menlo-Atherton. He had to constantly advocate for himself and prove that he was able to keep up with the students from the west side. This experience caused him to push himself more and become a strong advocate for black students. He started the first black student union and began working as a lifelong community organizer.
My first conversation with Edmund was one of many I would have with him. Through his stories, I learned about the discrimination that he and many others had experienced in our public schools. Edmund also began to involve me in some of his community projects including a college and career day at the Bellhaven Community Center, candidate forums and a project to bring a community college satellite campus to his community. I began to consider Edmund as a friend, mentor and personal community advisor. I would call him with questions about educational programs, data and best practices. Edmund also began to consult with me on his many ideas.
Edmund told me he had cancer and did not know how much more time he had. I was devastated to hear this news, and he died a year later. I felt like an old friend had passed away because it was as if I had known Edmund longer than only for a few short years. As I pondered his death, I realized he had been an amazing teacher for me. He brought me into a world that I did not live in—a world of discrimination, low expectations of minority students and the message of hope in terms of rising above difficult circumstances to succeed.
While at Edmund’s memorial service in East Palo Alto, where the church was standing room only, I realized my relationship with Edmund was not unique. Many people stood at the podium and told similar stories of his mentorship and generosity with his time. I was lucky to know Edmund Harris and will carry his messages with me as I continue onto a second term on the Sequoia Union High School District. On the campaign trail this year, you will hear me talk about the mentoring I have received from community leaders. Edmund is one of these people, and I was incredibly lucky to know him.
Thank you Edmund Harris.
